Happily Ever
by Kiba Wolf
Summary: Promised Day's done... so let's go nuts! For a while anyway... becuase, well, we made a promise to ourselves as the light shines on a new generation. Don't forget... anything, ever, even happily ever...


**A/N: **_From the minds of _Bleach Weekly Tabloid _it's Fullmetal Alchemist on more drugs than you can name and more sugar than you can imagine, with special thanks to shattered petal for the inspiration! I don't just stretch canon, I break it over my knee! Enjoy!_

**Warning: **_Makes no sense and contains no in-character actions from anyone. Also involves innuendo and language. _

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><p><em><strong>Happily Ever...<strong>_

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><p>It started right after the Promised Day.<p>

A new battle slowly but surely made itself known, traveling on the horizon at a breakneck speed towards the valiant heroes. A moment's rest they knew not, and it all started with a single phone call two months after the Elrics left Central.

"Hello, connect me to Brigadier General Mustang's office please."

"Right away, Sir," the operator answered, flipping some switches. "Brigadier General Mustang, there's a call incoming for you."

"Who's it from?" a grouchy Roy Mustang asked, shuffling through the seemingly endless stack of papers constantly on his desk.

"The north, Sir," the operator answered. "Specifically Fort Briggs." This caused the revered general to pause. Briggs, eh? This could be entertaining.

"Send him through," he commanded gleefully.

"Hello, Brigadier General Mustang?" a familiar voice drifted through the line after a quick _click_.

"Ah, Major Miles," Mustang purred, ready to stir up some hell. "To what do I owe this pleasantry?"

"Glad you asked, Sir," Miles chirped a bit too happily. As one of Olivier's subordinates, he typically treated Mustang with a respectful amount of distrust. Suspicion provoked, Mustang had to inquire.

"You seem awfully happy," he commented a bit bitterly.

"Of course I am, Sir," Miles agreed. "After all, Olivier's pregnant."

Mustang's brain stopped working.

For a long…

Long…

Time.

"Uh, Sir?" Miles' voice came from the other end, sounding uncertain. "Sir, are you okay? Are you there General Mustang?"

"Is this a _joke_?" Mustang gasped at last, totally floored by even the most remote possibility of Major General Olivier Armstrong being _pregnant_. What kind of man or monster could have impregnated her?

"No of course not, Sir," Miles answered, sounding a bit offended. "Why would I joke about something like this?"

"Because it's _you _and—and it's _Olivier_!" he exclaimed, feeling the eyes of his subordinates on him. What had him so riled up so early in the afternoon?

"I know, hah," Miles chuckled in response. "I kind of have the whole 'Promised Day' business to thank for it, go figure."

"Wait. What are you talking about?" Mustang demanded, resisting the urge to shake the phone and scream. What kind of hellish nightmare was this? Just the thought—the mere _thought_—of having a miniature Olivier running around… Dear Truth.

"Promise you won't tell Olivier I told you," Miles asked, chuckling a bit. Mustang spat out a quick _yes, of course_. "We knew that one or both of us might die over the course of the day, so we decided we'd die without regrets. It actually started as a funny little conversation we were having—I was actually the one who mentioned regretting it."

"Regretting what it?"

"You _know_," Miles explained, sounding like a blushing school girl. "I wanted to bang her before I died."

Mustang's brain stopped working again.

The concept—the very idea—of any man wanting to even dare suggest such a thing—how was Miles not dead?

"Wait, wait, wait," Mustang commanded, throwing his hand up, even though the gesture was wasted since Miles was, obviously, on the phone and not actually there in his office. "_You're the father?"_

"Of course!" Miles answered again in that way-too-cheerful voice. "And I'm proud to say that after we talked about it for a while, we both managed to confess a neutral, _real_ attraction to each other. So we're getting married!"

If Mustang's brain kept shutting off at this rate, he was going to be totally brain dead before the end of the day.

"Please tell me this is an elaborate joke," he pleaded, only to hear Miles chuckling again.

"No way!"

"You do realize I'm the worst person you could tell, right?" he demanded sharply, frustrated by the other man's blatant ignorance. "I'll have to report this! I'm too close to the top to let things slide—I can't afford to be caught with information like this so close to my goals!"

"What are you talking about?" Miles asked, genuinely dumbfounded.

"It's called _fraternization laws_," he growled. "Ever heard of them?"

Miles laughed.

That bastard laughed.

"Sir, didn't you get the memo? It came out almost a week ago!"

"What memo?"

"Fuhrer Grumman relaxed the fraternization laws, probably because he's on his way out," Miles rambled off. "Otherwise he would never do something so daring—too risky to his career. Oh, but back to the wedding, you poor misinformed—."

"Everybody except Riza out of my office now!" Mustang barked. "I'll talk to you later Major," he quickly told the phone, hanging up before Miles had a chance to say anymore.

"Did he just call her Riza?" Havoc asked, dumbfounded.

"Anyone seen my pizza?" Breda asked in annoyance.

"Maybe we should listen to him," Falman muttered.

"I'm with Falman on this one, bye guys!" Fuery agreed, tailing the other man out as Falman grabbed Havoc by the collar and towed him.

"Sir?" Riza asked after the others had cleared out, slamming the door shut behind them. "Did you actually just call me by my name?"

"Did you know that your grandfather lifted the fraternization laws?" he demanded.

"Of course, Sir, didn't you get the memo?" she asked in surprise. "I think Breda was supposed to pass it along to you."

"Memo to self, kill Breda later," Mustang muttered darkly.

"What was that, Sir?"

"Nothing," he answered quickly. "Come over here, Lieutenant." She walked over obediently, wondering at his odd change in behavior. "Did you know Miles made Olivier pregnant?" he hissed, as if it was the world's biggest secret.

"Of course, Sir," she answered, holding up a wedding invitation. "It says so right here; Miles even drew a little heart by it."

"How did that man get _the _Olivier Armstrong in his bed?" Mustang asked in genuine wonder.

"It's a mystery to us all, Sir," Riza answered, nodding solemnly. "Remind me again why this required you to kick everyone out though?"

"Don't you get it?" he demanded. "I can't let Olivier beat me!"

"Sir, what does that have to do with—?"

"Please bear my child!" Mustang shouted, grabbing her hands and dropping to his knees. Riza blinked once… twice… then finally nodded.

"I thought you'd never ask," she muttered, pulling him to his feet.

"What was that?"

"Oh nothing, Sir."

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><p>"Hey Ed," Winry purred from the doorway. Ed grunted in response, totally ignoring the fact that she was in her 'super sexy mode' just for him. She let out a defeated sigh. She didn't want to resort to this, but maybe it was the only way.<p>

"Ed, can I talk to you for a minute?" she asked, taking a seat behind him. He kept staring at the stupid book in his hands like it held all the secrets of the universe.

"You already are," he pointed out in a monotone. She plucked the book from his hands and tossed it in the nearby fire. "That was a _library book_!" he screamed in absolute terror. Winry slapped him before he could fall into hysterics.

"Ed, do you realize that General Armstrong and General Mustang both have children now?" she demanded, arms crossed. Still crying silently, Ed shook his head in the negative.

"Good for them, but why did that require burning my book?"

"Forget the damn book for a minute!" Winry yelled, smacking him upside the head with her wrench. Never leave home without it. "Think about this for a minute Ed: I'm talking to you about children. We happen to be married now. Childless and married. And I'm talking to you, my husband, about children. What do you think?"

"I think you're a psycho who just burned my book!" he yelled, standing up and stomping off towards the door. Winry, though, had enough and she wasn't taking no for an answer this time.

"Wait Ed, there's something else you should know," she said, her tone causing him to pause and turn around.

"What?" he glared suspiciously at her.

"Not only have they had children, but Ling has a son. Al probably won't take long once he works up the guts to do it," she explained slowly. "Do you see a pattern or a problem here?"

"Yeah, bad uncle jokes," Ed agreed, completely missing the point.

"No, Ed," Winry continued, barely keeping a hold of her patience. "All of those guys… are out-doing you. I heard General Mustang was already teaching his kid alchemy, and he's _two_. Do you want to be beaten by him _and _Ling _and _your baby brother? Don't even get me started on Major Miles."

Ed stared at her for a long moment, processing this. Beaten by all those guys. And Mustang's kid knowing alchemy? What if his son surpassed Ed as the youngest state alchemist ever? That's probably what that bastard was trying to do. He couldn't just let this slide. Would he really take this sitting down and let it continue?

Hell no.

"Winry, do you have any plans for the rest of the night and possibly tomorrow?" Ed asked hurriedly.

"Um, no," she answered, thinking he had missed the point again. "Why?" Ed strode over to her, picked her up, and carried her off to their bedroom.

"We're going to beat that bastard Colonel," he muttered on the way up.

"He's a general now, Ed," she reminded him.

"Bastard General."

That was how the end began, and not far away from where Ed was busy working on his latest, uh, _project_, Al finally worked up the guts to propose to Mei. Ling had already exercised his great power as emperor to produce an heir with his own bodyguard. The procreation levels sky-rocketed after the Promised day…

…Fifteen years later they all reaped what they had sown. On that day, seventeen years after the Promised Day, all of their children met for the first time. There was a big ball held to celebrate Fuhrer Grumman's retirement. Naturally all the military folks were invited, Ed being no exception since, in Mustang's words, he would "always hold an honorary status within the military."

And where Ed went, Al followed, and since Al was married to Mei that meant his half-brother-in-law would come along—for the free food.

"Fullmetal!" Roy called cheerfully, already at his drinking quota for the evening. "You're still short, good to know."

"Who are you calling short you backwards bastard colonel?" Ed yelled in response, ready to punch him in the face. Luckily Winry and Riza were there to pull their unruly husbands away from starting a fight.

"Hey Ed!" Ling called, wandering over. "My dear, dear brother-in-law!"

"Half-brother-in-law," Ed corrected, keeping his ties with Ling as distant as possible. "Where's Al?"

"Brother!"

"Al!" Ed turned to greet his younger brother who—was still taller than him. "Speak of the devil, how've you been?"

"Good, of course," he answered merrily. "Ling's treated me like a little brother, so I've basically been living like a king!" He laughed heartily, and everyone else joined in.

"Alphonse!"

"Oh dear Truth," he spat, hiding behind Ling. "Please kill me." Mei marched over, obviously looking for her rascally husband.

"Have you seen Alphonse?" she demanded, staring down Ed and Ling and apparently totally oblivious of Al cowering behind them. Everyone shook their heads in the negative. "I have to find him so we can all enjoy this nice family reunion!" she said, mostly to herself, as she stomped off. Everyone turned to give Al odd looks.

"See, the thing is—."

"General Armstrong!" Mustang called, interrupting Al and causing everyone's attention to shift to the woman now making her way over to them.

"Hello idiot, Miss Hawkeye, miscellaneous children," she greeted. Ed and Roy glared at her, Al and Ling shrugged it off, and Winry stood there confused.

"Actually, that would be Missus Mustang," Riza corrected timidly.

"That's what I said, Miss Hawkeye."

"Right…"

"That reminds me," she barked, turning to look at the Ishvalan man trailing behind her. "Where's our daughter?"

"She's playing with the other children," he answered quickly. It disturbed everyone in the room to some degree to observe the way he looked at her with complete infatuation. Some people had even started a rumor that poor Miles had been brainwashed.

As the adults chatted amongst themselves—or more true to form, bickered amongst themselves—the children outside were faced with an awkward situation.

"So…" one black haired, brown-eyed boy drawled. "I guess we'll just go around the circle and say who are parents are. My mom's Riza Hawkeye and my dad's Roy Mustang." Before anyone else could speak, a blonde-haired and red-eyed girl leapt for the boy and started throwing punches at him.

"Die offspring of Roy Mustang!"

"Cousin, what's wrong with those two?" whispered a Xingese girl with golden eyes.

"Uh, my dad said something about old rivalries before we came here, maybe this is one of them…" a young blond-haired, golden-eyed boy offered hesitantly.

"That's stupid," a Xingese boy with black eyes commented matter-of-factly.

"I know, right?" the golden-eyed boy agreed. "I mean, my dad hates your dad, but we get along just fine."

"Exactly!"

"H-hello," came a timid voice, the trio turned away from the fight to see a girl with dark blonde hair and hazel eyes approaching them. Girl would be the wrong term, though; she was more of a young lady.

"Hey there!" the Xingese boy greeted cheerfully. The Xingese girl bowed slightly in greeting. "You look a little old to be out here with us 'kids,'" he continued conversationally.

"Oh, well, how old are you all?" she asked politely, taking a seat beside him.

"She's fourteen," he said pointing to his cousin, "and the idiot with the drool running down his face is fifteen. Those two over there are, uh, both seventeen now I think? And I'm turning seventeen next month."

"Ah, I feel so old," she commented, laughing politely. "I'm twenty already, hard to believe."

"You're still young enough to hang out with us," the Xingese boy replied, smiling all the while. He turned his attention to his younger Amestrian cousin. "Hey. Hey snap out of it!" He hit him upside the head, causing the boy to fall forward and bang his head on the ground.

"What? I'm awake!" he cried in defense.

"Stop staring at the new girl, it's really not cool," the Xingese boy hissed, elbowing him.

"I wasn't staring!" he countered. The two fell into an argument involving what qualified as staring. Meanwhile the blonde-haired girl and 'Roy Mustang's Offspring' were still going at it. The Xingese girl cautiously walked away from her bickering cousins and sat down next to the elder woman.

"How come you're here?" she asked quietly. "If you don't mind me asking; who are your parents?" The woman smiled gently.

"My dad knew your father and uncle…"

"Uncle Ed or Uncle Ling?"

"Ed… I don't think he had a chance to meet Ling." She smiled wistfully. "I guess that's why I came out here. It's always something to see all those old faces, but I like to remind myself that what my father did… allowed all of you to live." The Xingese girl looked up at her, confused.

"Who…?"

"Elicia!" a voice called from within. "Everyone wants to talk to you; come inside!"

"Ah, there's my mom," the woman giggled. "I guess it makes sense they all want to see me. I swear, sometimes I just feel like a novelty item." She stood up and waved to the young girl, still laughing as she made her way inside.

"Hey, Big Cousin?"

"What is it?" the Xingese boy asked, finally ending his argument with the other boy.

"Do you know who Elicia is?" she asked innocently. The boy looked confused, but her Amestrian cousin gasped.

"That's who that was?" he asked dumbfounded.

"Yeah, do you know her?" The boy shook his head.

"Kind of," he explained haltingly. "My dad always says it's a long story, but he's mentioned her and some other people before." He paused and stood up, offering a hand to help his elder cousin off his feet. "Come on guys; we're hardly kids. Let's go talk with the adults inside."

"Adults are boring and stupid," the Xingese boy griped.

"Maybe, but they sure do have some interesting stories to tell," the golden-haired, golden-eyed boy responded, happily leading the way inside.

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><p><strong>AN: **_Is it crack? Is it sincere fiction? Is it some weird hybrid of the two? It's… who cares! Happy October 3, guys… don't forget!_


End file.
